#7 Matías Adams

| November 7, 2011 | 0 Comments

MA: Hello, officer. Man, you missed one hell of a game last night. The Flyers got their asses kicked by the Leafs. Can you believe it? Leafs in the Stanley Cup finals. December 12th went by and the world didn’t end then. It’s probably not a sign of the Apocalypse or Ragnarök, either.

MA: Oh? You thought I didn’t understand English? ‘Course I know English. You got a folder on me. Thick one, too. Colour me impressed, Señor Carling, you got me. That’s the last time I do that, by the way. Just look up my education. Better yet, ask your daughter what I was like in high school. She’ll remember me.

MA: Nah. I never ‘had designs’ on your ‘little girl’. Are we in the sixties or shit? Mom raised me right: never kiss a girl if you don’t think you can be with her forever and there’s no way I can be with a cop’s daughter ever.

MA: Couldn’t say why you brought me in. I don’t have any Vulcan mind tricks. Get your facts straight: this is reality. Shit like that doesn’t happen.

MA: Would you like me to stop cursing and talk with bad grammar to fit into your image of a stereotypical Mexican, which I’m not? You can go **** yourself and your pappy, too.

MA: Yeah, turn off that recording device and camera. Do you want to go behind the fake mirror and tell your partner to go get some coffee? I can wait. I got all day now, thanks to you. Hey, that’s a good idea. I want mine with cream and five sugars.

MA: So what would you like to know? Gang affiliations? Drug trafficking? Any crime you think I might have done because my skin is darker than your peaches-and-cream?

MA: What? That’s it? Where I was a week ago yesterday? Christ on a ****ing stick. There was a game last week! Sens versus Bruins. Boston won, two-one overtime. A real shame. It would have been great if Ottawa made it to the finals.

MA: Yeah I can ****ing prove it. I got credit card receipts. I was at Mikey’s on Third and Gordon. Jimmy was bartending that night. Just ask him.

MA: Did you even ask him? Ask Susan then. She works every night there. Knows just what I like. Bombay gin and tonic. She never lets me drink more than I can handleaaarrrghowshitwhatthehell

MA: What the **** wasss that? Oh ssshit. You got me, officccer. Cat’ssss out of the bag. Do you like it? I wasssn’t fond of the ssscalesss at firsst, but they’ve grown on me. I got rainbow wingsss too, just under my shirt. The Pride parade isss next week. Think I’ll be out to go to it?

MA: I bet you want to know: did I kill that girl last week? Kitty Barton. Uptown girl, blue eyesss, brown hair. Eighteen. Her folksss funded sssome important ssshinding in March ssso that’sss why you care, isssn’t it?

MA: You’re resssearch isss lacking. Do you know who Quetzalcoatl is? Nah, ‘courssse not. He’sss just another one of thossse heathen godsss to you. Well, the Internet won’t tell you ssshit about him.

MA: He didn’t kill that girl, and neither did I. We know what did, though.

MA: Bingo. It wasssn’t human and–oh ****. One minuteeeeeee.

MA: Ah, that’s better. Do you know how annoying it is to talk like that? Anyway, you’re right: what killed her wasn’t human. How you even thought I wasn’t human is beyond me, though.

MA: Right. The thing. It’s got a name, but I’m not saying it.

MA: No, nothing like that shit. Voldemort’s an angel next to this sick ****. You saw what it did to her.

MA: It’s new to the city. First time I’ve seen one with my own eyes, but Quetzal knows what it is.

MA: A vermin is what it is. The lowest piece of trash that ever walked this earth. Kitty’s lucky that I chased it off before it could skin her.

MA: Yeah, the girl’s dead, but at least she’s resting in peace now. Wouldn’t be able to do that if that thing got her skin and wore it like a pelt. It’d be hell for you guys as well: dead girl in your morgue, monster wearing her skin above.

MA: Why? Like hell I know why. To blend in, I guess. It’s an ugly ****er. I don’t know a lot about this thing. Quetzal doesn’t like talking about it. Too many s’s, for one. There is one thing I know about it, though? If you want to know, undo these cuffs and let me go. Guns and shit won’t work on it. That’s not the thing, just so you know.

MA: Fine. You uncuff me, I tell you, then you let me go.

MA: Man, you do those things up tight. Right, the deal. Do you want to know what it is afraid of? Yeah? It’s only afraid of one thing.

MA: Me.

Category: 2011, Fantasy, Scifi, Superhero

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